


I Want to Hurry Home to You

by bradan_feasa



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bradan_feasa/pseuds/bradan_feasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon returns to Winterfell after an extended period of time in King's Landing to find that Sansa may have moved on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want to Hurry Home to You

When Jon catches sight of Winterfell for the first time since he headed south nearly two namedays ago, he still manages to feel a swell of excitement deep in his gut, despite his exhaustion. Excitement mixed with not a small amount of anxiety. It’s just that it’s been so long since he was last here and an uncomfortably long time since he last heard from the Lady of Winterfell. Sansa seemed to understand when Daenerys called Jon to help her form her new government, to offer what skills he had as a leader to help her start putting the pieces of a broken kingdom back together. The whole thing had taken longer than Jon would have liked and Sansa’s letters became briefer and briefer as time wore on. And now, with the journey back north stalled by torrential rains in the Riverlands, it has been a full five moons since Jon last had word from the castle he now races toward.

Of course, that does not mean the castle and its occupants had ever left Jon’s mind. Quite the opposite. Before leaving King’s Landing, Daenerys had asked, in what Jon felt was a rather demanding tone, that Jon take a wife and produce heirs since she was not likely to have children herself. Seeing his opportunity, Jon delivered a carefully rehearsed speech on the merits of his taking a northern bride - a Stark bride. Laying out all of the reasons why marrying Sansa was a good political move, he was almost convinced that he could convince his aunt of the merits of the match without revealing his feelings. Daenerys nodded at all the right moments and looked as if she was mentally noting questions she may have at others. In the end though, the queen had just one question, “And you love her?”

Jon has never been good with words, has always been more inclined to action over speech, but his answer seemed to please his aunt enough that she gave her consent. It was true that Daenerys had left Jon no option but to lend his help in the early days of her reign; she was unpredictable and deadly. To remain in Winterfell as he wished after the defeat of the Others seemed an impossibility, a danger to the tenuous grasp Sansa held over the North. And so Jon left the comfort of his childhood home. Left the newfound comfort of Sansa’s bed and, he dared think, heart. 

In the end he was required to spend nearly twice as long in the South as he had originally planned, a fact that had not escaped his aunt’s notice. For all those at court seemed to be on edge around, for how on edge Jon had first been around her, he quickly discovered that she was loving and good to those who she felt earned it. Daenerys seemed to feel that Jon’s show of support was enough to earn him a special place in her heart. And so she agreed to his choice of bride, his request that any children born of the marriage be raised at Winterfell. She had even recommended that Jon secure some sort of gift for Sansa from the royal jewelers as an apology for his long delay, a necklace which now feels as if it is burning a hole through Jon’s cloak as he rides hard for the gates of Winterfell. 

As Jon reaches the gates, he begins to just make out a figure which could only be Sam, watching and waiting. Pushing even harder, before he knows it he is swinging down off his horse, wobbling on legs weak from too many days in the saddle. His one source of comfort regarding Sansa while he was away was that Sam was here with her. In the short time the three of them had all been at Winterfell together, Sansa and Sam had formed a close friendship, Sansa having been around so few men who treated her gently and with respect and Sam relaxing in his role as maester thanks to Sansa’s sweet nature and reassuring words. Jon has eagerly awaited his reunion with Sam, but now he has more important duties to attend to.

Still, he pulls his friend into a hug before stepping back and asking, “Where’s Sansa? I must speak to her.”

Sam turns red, not an uncommon event when asked about the lady of the house, despite the elapsed time, before he sputters out, “She’s in the Godswood, the hot springs I think. But Jon, I must tell you...”

“Whatever it is, we’ll speak on it later!” Jon tried to make a point of never being too short with Sam, who had been mistreated and dismissed for much of his life, but with the prospect of Sansa bathing in the hot springs, he has no choice but to sprint towards the Godswood, Ghost having caught up by now and following Jon into the woods.

In the trees, Jon begins moving more quietly, unsure whether to surprise Sansa but not wanting to rule out the opportunity by stepping loudly on a pile of dried leaves. The trees are awash with color, autumn having just started this far to the north. The winter should prove to be a short one, but it still gave Jon pause, gave him another reason to get back to Winterfell sooner rather than later. Now, looking at the bright orange and red leaves that litter the ground, he cannot help but be reminded of the woman hiding somewhere in the expanse of the Godswood.

Jon is working out a plan - _find her, send Ghost over to her so she knows I’m here, sneak up behind her, slide the necklace on, ask her to be my wife_ \- when he hears the sound of Sansa’s voice.  He thinks she must be singing to herself, or perhaps speaking to a serving girl, so he stops to wait, to make sure there isn’t anyone there who could ruin his newly-formed plan. 

But after a moment, it’s apparent that Sansa is not alone nor is she speaking to a servant. No, Jon is unsure as to what he’s stumbled upon, but it sounds far more intimate than anything he was expecting. He creeps closer, willing Ghost to stay out of sight at least until he can work out what’s going on. As he slinks behind a tree, he realizes that Sansa isn’t at the usual hot spring she prefers - the one she is currently in is barely warmer than bathwater. It’s the spring Jon and Robb used to go in when they wanted to swim, since most of the hot springs were entirely too hot for any sort of physical activity. 

The thought that springs to Jon’s head makes his gut clench - _she’s found someone else, you bloody fool, you left her and she found someone else, someone who would never abandon her, never leave her alone when she needs them you great, bloody moron_. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Just because his thoughts never once left her the whole time he was gone certainly didn’t mean that Sansa felt the same about him. Of course she would find some other man to love her as she deserved. As if to confirm Jon’s suspicions, Sansa’s voice sounds out, clear through the few trees and shrubs that separate them, a string of “I love you’s” coupled with the unmistakable sound of lips meeting skin. 

Turning around to head back and find Sam, Jon catches sight of Ghost bounding past him, heading straight toward Sansa. He stops himself from yelling out - it is inevitable that Sansa will soon know he has returned but he can at least avoid having her know that he was mere steps away from her out here. He hears the instant Sansa spots Ghost, she gasps, the gasp accompanied by a small voice that shrieks, “DOG!” or maybe “DUCK!”

 _That’s not a man’s voice_ \- but before Jon can put the pieces together, Sansa calls out to him, “Jon? Are you out there as well?”

With that, Jon stumbles into the clearing by the hot spring, knowing he has a small chance of actually convincing Sansa of his lie - that Ghost had run off and he was in the Godswood looking for the beast - but the sight that greets him stops him dead in his tracks. Sansa was most certainly saying sweet words and giving sweeter kisses to another man, though that man is much younger than Jon would have guessed not moments ago. The babe in Sansa’s arms that is reaching determinedly for Ghost looks to be barely past his first nameday. He also looks to be Jon’s double, a realization that has Jon’s knees buckling and his head dizzy. 

Sansa takes the opportunity to fix such a knowing smile on Jon that his knees would feel weak all over again if he hadn’t chosen to kneel next to the water in a desperate attempt to compose himself. He only manages to stare, with his mouth half-open, as Sansa reaches out the hand not clasping the babe - their babe - to beckon Jon to join them. With her in just a shift that’s gone transparent in the water, holding his child who looks so like him, Jon wonders if perhaps he hasn’t made it back to Winterfell, if perhaps he is dead or dreaming. Still, he strips down to his breeches and tunic more quickly than he thinks he ever has before sliding with surprising grace into the warm water. Only then does he manage to form any words, and even so just barely, “How? Who? What’s his name?”

Eyes welling up, Sansa tries to explain, “I didn’t realize until you’d left and then I couldn’t tell you. I knew you’d come back here and the queen would be furious...for half a hundred reasons. I so wanted to tell you but I thought it was just my being selfish. And then after Torrhen was born I was so busy I couldn’t write and I didn’t know if you would ever be able to come back - why didn’t you tell me you were on your way?”

Jon manages to grasp a rough idea of what Sansa is saying, but his mind fixes on one single word, “Torrhen.”

Upon hearing his name said in a strange deep voice, his son stops tracking Ghost’s movements along the edge of the spring and stares instead at Jon. In the boy’s face is mirrored Jon’s own confusion, the upward slope of his eyebrows, the concerned grey eyes, the slight pout to his lips. Jon aches to touch him, to feel the softness of his hair, kiss his chubby face and tickle his toes. But he knows that Torrhen must get used to him - being raised amongst the Stark children has at least taught him how to behave around babes - and so instead he just smiles at his son, a smile that threatens to turn into his own tears as Torrhen reaches for him, glancing at Sansa before asking, “Dog?”

“Papa, darling, Papa,” is her reply as she hands Jon his child.

* * *

 

Jon does his best to dry Torrhen off before handing him to Sansa so he can get his own clothes back on. Fully dressed, he turns to offer his arm to Sansa but instead sees her staring at the ground, pointing. Looking down, Jon sees that the necklace he brought her has fallen out of the pocket he had secured it in, leaving it sitting in the dirt, though luckily still in its protective velvet pouch.  

Picking it up, Jon looked to Sansa, “Right, before this happened, I did have a plan. I was going to ask if you would marry me and then give you this necklace to apologize for my absence. It seems rather silly now, seeing as you’ve given me a child.”

Sansa’s eyes fixed briefly on the delicate string of pearls, the lightest shade of grey in color, that Jon pulled from the pouch before focusing her attention back on Jon, “Have you come up with a more romantic proposal or is that all I am to expect from you on that subject?”

“Oh gods. I don’t know why I just did that. Just, the baby I think? I got too excited over the baby and made a mess of that proposal,” Sansa wasn’t glaring at Jon as he’d half expected. No, she was laughing, loud enough that Torrhen was staring at her with the same concerned looked he had given Jon upon their meeting. 

“Jon Snow, you can be hopeless sometimes. I think it may be my duty to wed you, if only to ensure no other woman is subjected to this sort of romance. Come, the heart tree is just beyond those shrubs. If we hurry we can be wed before Torrhen’s supper,” Jon can think of no objections to being wed before the day is out, so he gathers Sansa and their son up in his arms and carries them off in the direction of the heart tree.


End file.
